


Tambourine

by 3am_updates, ughdotcom



Category: DanPlan, Video Blogging RPF, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Collab, Summoning, demon! hosuh, hosuh is a tired boi, magican! dan, magican! stephen, stephen kills everyone, this was a bad idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:41:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3am_updates/pseuds/3am_updates, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ughdotcom/pseuds/ughdotcom
Summary: Hosuh is a tired demon, Stephen and Dan are stupid, and all goes to hell.(from your local danplan fans ughdotcom and 3am updates)





	Tambourine

**Author's Note:**

> 3am: Hey. Yup. Hi.

_ ~One.~ _

‘Stephen,’ he had said as they drew chalk lines, ‘are you sure this is a good idea?’

‘Of course it is,’ he said, placing candles around the circle. ‘Now shut up, and make that line straighter.’

‘It’s literally a circle, the point of it is to not be straight.’

Stephen spluttered angrily, before saying, ‘just shut up.’

_ ~Two.~ _

They reference old books a breath away from falling apart, starting to burn paper and bread and cloth, scattering the ashes everywhere but the chalk circle. 

‘Why are we doing this?’ He asked, curiosity forcing him to break the recommended silence.

‘Wouldn’t you like a demon?’

_ ~Three.~ _

‘I have a bad feeling about this.’

‘It’s too late now. C’mon, take this, it’ll protect us.’

He catches the iron bar thrown his way, a feeling of dread curling in his gut as he ties it to hang from his neck.

_ ~Four.~ _

A gust of wind snatches the curtain, pulling it and blocking the full moon’s rays that are so vitally important. They curse as they’re shrouded in darkness, lighting candles as if it will chase away the shadows.

(It doesn’t work.)

_ ~Five.~ _

The candles burn, smoke fills the room, and their eyes burn as they start to speak the old words they can barely pronounce. 

‘This won’t work,’ he hopes. 

(Why are they doing this, if they’re so afraid?)

_ ~Six.~ _

They both refuse to be afraid, continuing to speak even as they stumble over words and as their minds scream at them. 

(They try to remember that it’s just a game, a hoax, but it’s getting harder by the second.)

_ ~Seven.~ _

It starts to grow more real, and they find themselves remembering all the warnings and labels attached. 

(Wear iron, don’t speak your name, be polite, know the rules that they are breaking)

_ ~Eight.~ _

‘This’ll be great,’ he said, even as he shivered in the empty room, voice echoing loudly back to him. ‘It’ll be fine.’

(They both hear the lie, but it’s to late.)

_ ~Nine.~ _

It’s too late to turn back now, anyways. ‘Once you get to three,’ they said. ‘Then it’s over.’ 

So it’ll have to be good. They prepared for this, after all. It’ll be great.

_ ~Ten.~ _

Maybe nothing will happen. Nothing is happening. The candles don’t flicker. Winds don’t blow out their flames or scatter the dust. The ruins are shaky at best, maybe they’re not enough to actually have magic concealed in the white powder of chalk.

(They ignore the way the shadows dance and how the flames have ghostly images of people in their shadows, shadows that light shouldn’t have.)

 

~~

Are they sure they can do this?

~~

 

The moonlight brightens as they say the last word, chalk swirling up, mixing with ashes and creating glowing grey dust that swirls in intricate patterns, ruins flashing as firelight glints of the spiral. Stephen and Daniel are thrown back, pushed by an invisible force like wind, but colder and silky, as if water was brushing past them. The candles go out one by one, blinking out until the only light is silver moonlight on floors and hair and dust and ash and chalk. Thousands of hissing voices fill the room, speaking in tone that scratches at their ears and curls in their guts. The shadows rear to life, coming of the walls and circling around them like wolves. 

A horrified, joint whisper silences everything, sending the shadows back to their placing, making the dust settle down. There’s a vague outline in the circle when they say it, the ghost of a memory washing by. 

_ “Eleven.”  _

And there the demon is. After this, his appearance is strangely anticlimactic. The demon is sitting, cross-legged, in the middle of the chalk circles Dan and Stephen  _ painstakingly  _ drew days before. His eyes are shadowed and disinterested, looking down at the ground of the cool attic floor. 

_ What do we do now?  _ Daniel silently asks, looking at Stephen. 

“So….” the demon says, looking up. “Am I just uneducated in human customs or is this  _ extremely _ awkward?” 


End file.
